And Then They Saw the Elephant
by NotMarge
Summary: A tangled up mish-mash of scenes and events and characters from Freak Show. Twisted up, swirled with a fork, and presented on a plate of the unexpected for your enjoyment. AU? Well, obviously. Oh and so far, not one dang elephant in sight. ;)
1. Dora Ross Makes a Sandwich

I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I'm about to swing for the fence here, if you don't mind.

And Then They Saw the Elephant

Episode 2

Dora Ross Makes a Sandwich

* * *

Twisty the Clown stood the most opulent room he'd ever set eyes upon. It was huge, like a ballroom and filled with play toys and odd combinations of frivolity only the rich can afford.

And in walked Dandy Mott.

A full grown man with a pigeon-toed walk and stuffy prep clothing and the perpetual pout of ten year old spoiled brat.

Twisty just stared.

He'd heard the peevish screaming from the stairs.

And known in some dim memory corner of his mind that if he'd _ever_ yelled at his mother that way, she beaten him black and blue.

As he would have well deserved.

And now before him stood a grown man, with blood on his forehead and the murder in his eyes slowly melting away into wonder and amazement.

The primly dressed, clearly unhinged mother behind him was smiling as if she'd gone to meet the Queen.

And Twisty knew he was in the belly of the beast of madness.

"You can do whatever you want with him!" the crazy woman trilled cheerfully. "I'll leave you two alone."

The mother closed the double doors and Twisty gripped his bag of childish delights a fraction of an inch tighter.

But then as the pigeon-toed baby boy advanced on him, and Twisty got a closer look at him, he slowly released his grip on the bag in shock and dismay.

Something was definitely wrong with this person.

* * *

"_I_ will be the king and _you_ will be Anna."

Twisty the Killer Clown dutifully sat on the divan, watching the grown man playing with marionettes.

He was _really_ creeped out.

The delusional creature rambled on and on, finally leaving the stage and coming toe to pigeoned-toe with him.

And demanded a performance.

Twisty knew his time had come.

The trick was to pick the right moment.

"Pick a toy. Show me what kind of clown you really are!" the psychotic man boy directed.

I'm the best clown.

So he went to choose his crackerjack box prize from amongst the dolls and various sundries that lay forgotten within the white painted toybox.

As the spoiled princeling rudely riffled through his, _his_, bag of goodies.

And when he tossed aside The Juggling Pins of Jocularity, Twisty knew the time had come.

He picked one up and whapped the freak across the back of the head. When the boy collapsed, he grabbed The Shears of Whimsy and stabbed him over and over again until he was good and dead.

Then the relieved clown wiped the bloody shears on a clean section of the dead man's white pants leg and stood up.

He went downstairs to the parlor where the mother was reading a paper.

She stood anxiously as he came in.

"Are you all done playing already?"

He walked right up to her and because she had raised and doted on the sick monster who lay dead and bloody upstairs, he stabbed her in the gut with The Shears of Whimsy.

She gasped and gurgled, collapsing upon the Oriental rug in gouts of blood that covered the filthy suit of the masked clown.

When she was also still and very much dead, he carefully stuffed the shears into his bag and tightened the drawstring.

And looked up.

A dark skinned older woman in a maid outfit was staring at him, her oval eyes wide and alarmed.

"Is she . . . dead?"

He answered her query with his lifeless eyes.

"Is . . . is _he_ dead?"

He did not blink or change countenance.

She took a deep, trembly breath and let it out slow, her entire body relaxing from years, _decades,_ of tension.

"Oh Sonny, I've been wantin' to do that for the _longest_ time. Thank you."

She took in the gory scene again, cast her eyes up to the ceiling, and finally back to him.

Her entire face was a question.

"Are you gonna kill me next?"

He took a step back from her.

She studied him for moment, then patted her hair, and smoothed the front of her white apron.

"Good. Wait here."

He did and she retreated back through the swinging door into the kitchen.

He stood where he was, enveloped by the tangy scent of fresh blood in the air and justice served for bad boys and their doting mothers.

The woman returned in less than five minutes with a brown paper bag in one hand.

When she spoke, her tone was collected and assured.

"Better get going, Sonny, 'cause I'm about to call the cops and tell them a crazy clown just killed my employer and her son."

Then she handed him the bag. He carefully took it and opened it. A whaff of roast beef greeted him as he inspected the contents.

A sandwich, wrapped up in white paper. And a generous spear of dill pickle.

He looked up and she could have sworn that his dead eyes smiled at her.

Just a little.

Then he walked out the back door toward the woods and she watched him go.

Dora Ross stayed still for a second or two longer, looking around at the carnage grimly and glancing back up at the ceiling.

"Damn, I'm gonna have to get a new job."

Then she headed to the kitchen to make the phone call to the police station.

* * *

**Yes, yes, another AHSFS fic, hush. ;)**

**Anyway, this one's going to be a little different. We'll be bouncing around the episodes, focusing on different characters, leaping in and out of scenes like cucoos on clocks here. Or that guy from Quantum Leap. **

**Sometimes the changes will be for the better, sometimes for the worse. Sometimes they'll just be changes. Sometimes they'll be funny. Sometimes they'll be dark and depressing. **

**And all the chapters will be completely unrelated to one another. **

**I'm planning on running the gambit here and I'll let you decide what you think, okay?**

**So, who wants in? **

**Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.**


	2. Evie Takes Action

I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I'm about to swing for the fence here, if you don't mind.

And Then They Saw the Elephant

Episode 9

Evie Takes Action

* * *

"Put it back!"

He staggered over close to the long legged, tall as hell woman who dared to take down the banner of the world's most amazing bearded lady, Ethel Darling.

Ethel Darling, his mother, now dead and gone forever.

"Where it was!" He emphasized belligerently. "Put it _back_!"

Eve faltered, looking up at his stumbling, rolling, drunken approach.

"Jimmy . . ." she responded gently, so very weary of her once admirable friend who was sinking so very low.

Her heart cracked for him, that poor, motherless boy, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and evil tempers.

"I'll do it myself!" He snarled, unsteadily putting down his bottle and shooing her away.

"Jimmy . . ." she sursshed again, trying to reach out for him in his grief.

His bottom lip stuck out like a petulant baby and he bellowed at her like an enraged moose.

"Leave me alone!"

His breath stank, alcohol was practically leaked out his pores. His dark eyes were bloodshot and his filthy clothes were a disheveled mess.

She'd always thought he was a handsome boy, full of caring and kindness and life.

Now his condition repulsed her.

She turned away, her heart swelling with sadness and despondency for him.

And then stopped dead in her tracks as he in his clumsy fumblings batted at the banner behind her.

Stomped her foot.

"No."

Kicked off her kitten heeled sandals.

"_No_."

And turned around with her hands on her hips, facing him again.

"Well, go ahead, get lost, you big walking tree of a _freak_!"

Set her face and cracked her knuckles.

"I have had enough of _this_!" she declared darkly.

And caught his jaw with a quick jab.

He sagged bonelessly and Amazon Eve lifted him with only the slightest of grunts over her broad, strong shoulders.

He blathered nonsense into her ear, nearly deafening her but she stalwartly ignored his raging.

Off to the side, she saw Paul begin to hesitantly advance in her direction. She waved him away mouthing, 'get the banners', and continued on.

And made her way to the bath tent with Jimmy Darling flung over her shoulders like a slightly sentient sack of old potatoes, pushed aside the thick flap, and went in.

A roustabout lay soaking in his bathwater, eyes closed. A flickering Coleman lantern stood nearby on a rickety stool.

"Out!" she commanded, all her gentle nature gone away in a last ditch effort to save her friend.

His wrinkled, craggy face twisted in an expression of irritation.

"I only just got in here, lady! It's been a long . . ."

She kicked the side of the tub threateningly with her bare foot, ignoring the pain.

"_OUT!_"

Grumbling, he stood up, clambered out of the tub, and grabbed his clothes, stomping toward the tent exit.

Evie took no notice of him or his droopy nakedness at all. She had bigger fish to fry just then.

None too gently, she dumped the still blabbering Jimmy Darling into the drink, clothes and all.

When he surfaced, bellowing and spluttering, she ducked him under the water again to finally shut his whining and then brought him back up.

This time, as per the plan, he was too busy gasping for air to yell at her anymore. She took her opportunity.

"Now you listen to _me_, Jimmy Darling! You've got to _stop_ this craziness!"

He ignored her, trying instead to escape her and his prison tub, sloshing water everywhere . She sighed and ducked him back down under the water again.

She counted to three Mississippis and brought him back up.

When he regained his breath, he started up again.

"Whaddya know about it, huh?! She wasn't _your_ mother! She was _mine_!"

Eve sighed deeply, so sorry in all the world Jimmy's life had come to this moment. But she continued on, drawing out the poison in his wounded soul as honestly as she could.

"You're right, Jimmy. She wasn't, not really. But she _was_ a good part of us all, you can't deny it."

He sat seething and impotent, unable to take a swing at her, no matter how drunk he was. Evie kept going, wordlessly praying that he would hear her through his thick haze.

"Jimmy, I _know_ you're hurting and I'm so _sorry_ about all of it. But you _can't_ stay like this forever."

She took a deep breath and pushed forward.

"You need to get your pretty head out of your smelly ass and get _clean_! Your mother would _never_ want you to live like this!"

He looked at her owlishly for a second and then his face crumpled. And he simply sat, a defeated and broken boy in cooling bathwater, crying all over again.

"I just miss her, Evie. So much. And I coulda helped her. Why didn't she let me help her?"

She knelt closer and put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. They were very close now and she'd even adjusted to his putrid aroma so that she barely even noticed it at all now.

"I don't know, honey. But I know you would have tried and no matter what else she was thinking, she knew you loved her. And she loved you too, Jimmy. Something just got too big for both of you."

He nodded, misery saturating his sick, puffy face. And for once didn't say anything.

Evie continued, hope blossoming her heart that she might actually be getting through to him at last.

"But you can't die yourself. You've got to keep all the good stuff about her in your heart and use it to move _on_ and get _clean_ and healthy and be our leader again. It's what she would _want_, Jimmy."

She leaned closer, very nearly pleading in her tone now that she finally had his quietly listening attention. One hand gently brushing at the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

"It's what _we_ want; it's what we _need_."

They locked eyes and she tried to send out her care and compassion for him. He gazed at her beseechingly.

And suddenly moved forward to kiss her.

She stopped his advance with a conclusive hand over his mouth and spoke softly again.

"And that's _another_ thing, loverboy. You've got to quit trying to bang everything with a hole around here. It's messing up your brain and you're getting dumber with every screw and every drink."

He looked more pitiful and wounded than ever and she wept within that she'd had to hurt him so.

But it was time _somebody_ stopped this madness.

There was too much of it out there in the world, seeping into their safe haven, for it to be attacking them from within as well.

Evie stood then and folded her arms across her ample chest. And in the sternest tone she could conjure, gave Jimmy Darling his last directive.

"You have exactly thirty seconds, Lobster Boy, to get your drunk, worthless self out of that tub. And then we'll go together to get a cup of black coffee and starting getting you sober."

She didn't finish with an 'or else'. She didn't need to.

* * *

**Now that's what _should _have happened in that scene! And the arrest after that? Well maybe that woulda gone differently too.**

**So, thanks to brigid1318 and The Cry-Wank Kid for taking a chance on yet another new fic of mine. I really appreciate you both :)**


	3. Author's Note

**Hello wonderful ones,**

**Due to some sudden unforseen big dramas in my life, I've decided I must take a February sabbatical from my beloved fanfiction.**

**I promise I'll return in March and we'll continue to enjoy the heck out of these wandering tales.**

**You are under no loyalty to post a review response to this announcement of mine. I just didn't want to abandon these special characters and you my loyal readers without some explanation as to why.**

**Some if not all of you would either have been offended (understandable) or concerned (so many of you have shown me kindness over the years) and I appreciate and respect you too much to be so rude and uncaring to youin return.**

**So take care of yourselves and I'll see you again (relatively) soon.**

**Happy fanfic-ing!**

**Your joyful ('cause i choose to be) storyteller,**

**Not Marge**


	4. Ethel Darling Takes a Stand

I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

Glad the plot bunnies returned from their vacations. Jeez, dudes.

And Then They Saw the Elephant

Episode 8

Ethel Darling Takes a Stand

* * *

Asking questions of Elsa Mars never was a good idea.

Because she didn't like to answer them.

But Ethel had warned her.

_If I ever found out you were lying and hurt those girls,_ she had said._ I'll kill ya with my own two hands._

And now alot more than the girls had been hurt.

Paul, bleeding like a stuck pig. Skewered by Elsa herself in front of them all. Could die at any time.

Ma Petite, disappeared.

Surely dead by some conniving of her very own self assigned guardian.

The woman who wailed and cried and pretended to love her most.

But there was only one spotlight.

And only the great Elsa Mars was fit to bathe in its glow.

Everyone else had to bow down.

And there was never, _ever_ enough spotlight.

Ethel Darling had stood loyally beside the self involved German for more years than she cared to remember.

Stood beside and cleaned up the messes.

Listened to the self-pitying rants.

Made reasonable excuses.

All because the woman had saved her.

Her and her lobster handed son.

Saved them from destitution and life on the streets, in jails.

In pits.

But at what cost?

She stood here now, no longer at her side.

But in front of her.

Because she could stand aside no more.

No more of the abusive temper tantrums, no more of the dangerous demands for absolute loyalty.

No more lying to herself and everyone else about the grand goodness of Fraulein Elsa Mars.

She stood and watched the woman rant and rave and throw shade to misdirect from her own misdealings and sins.

She would pay for her own, in time, Ethel would.

Sooner rather later according to the doctor and her failing liver.

She would stand before God and pay whatever price He commanded of her.

". . . two old friends tonight!"

But first, she would stop the madness and lies of Elsa Mars once and for all.

"No!"

And she fired the gun.

Not at her leg. Or her arm. Or even her belly or chest.

But right straight to her head.

Her aim was true and the death instantaneous as the woman dropped.

_No. No more words from you, Elsa. No more._

Ethel Darling resolutely wiped away her tears.

Laid the gun down upon the spindly side table.

And approached the body of the woman she had once loved like a sister and pledged her life's devotion to.

She caressed the blood speckled, curled, strawberry blond hair with a trembling hand.

Then leaned over and lightly kissed the bloody mess of the face she had worshipped for so long.

_No more. No more words from you tonight now._

Then she rose on unfeeling limbs.

And left the tent to seek out her son.

* * *

**Tore me up when Ethel just let Elsa talk and talk and talk until she threw that knife in her eye. But she wouldn't have let all the rest come to pass if she had lived. I don't think.**

**So this is me fixing it.**

**Sorry it's been so long. :( My bad.**

**Thanks so long ago to brigid1318 for your review. **

**Thanks also to Umbrellas in the Rain (very cool), BlackButlerFan13, frankenkylee, FeefeeThorne, and LokiThisIsMadness for your support to this tale.**

**Hope you guys are still around to enjoy. If not, I understand :)**


	5. Paul Makes a Friend

I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

Here's one of my favorite guys.

And Then They Saw the Elephant

Episode 2

Paul the Illustrated Seal Makes a Friend

* * *

They had only just begun to try to order and already it was falling apart.

Jimmy'd tried, he really had. Paul couldn't fault him for that.

Even taken off his gloves and let those lobster claws out into plain sight.

Must've been tough.

He could usually hide 'em.

Not like Paul.

No way to hide his seal arms.

Was why he'd tattooed 'em. Something he could control.

Not like this catastrophe of a meal.

They'd sat down, nice and polite.

Jimmy reminding everyone about their napkins and manners like someone's prim and proper great aunt.

Paul'd even taken off his hat, hadn't he? Real gentleman-like.

Not like these rubes.

Noses in the air and rude, the lot of them.

Staring and whispering.

Like they were a bunch of freaks.

Which they were.

But that wasn't the point, was it?

Except it really was.

Paul ignored them of course.

He'd been stared at all his life.

Few minutes more wasn't going to matter.

Especially when there was food to be had.

"Excuse me. Excuse _me_. Is there anywhere _else_ you can eat? You're upsetting my daughter."

The pinched and worried face of a well-to-do woman who'd never known a day of real hardship in her life.

With her starched dress and dainty little hat.

And proper arms.

And she didn't take true appreciation in any of it.

_Ah, sod off, lady. It's just a lunch._

Except it wasn't.

And they all, carnies and rubes alike, knew it.

The little girl next to the shrill woman was pouting, wide-eyed and fearful.

But not quite as her mother was expecting.

"No they're not, Mommy."

As if the silence could get any more deafening.

The mother's face slackened with shock and it was all Paul could do not to break into laughter.

"_Sally_ . . ."

Before her shocked mother could react, the child hopped down from her chair.

And tentatively approached the Illustrated Seal.

"Do they hurt?"

Paul was just as shocked as the spluttering mother.

"Sally! Come _back_ here, darling!"

Who ignored her.

And shyly repeated her question.

"Do they hurt?"

She looked pointedly at Paul's shortened arms and elongated fingers, deformed since birth.

"_Sally_! Mind your _manners_! I mean, come _back_ here!"

The mother seemed to be floundering as to which cardinal sin of prim and proper ladying her daughter had broken.

Paul decided to focus on the girl. Who clearly had more brains, manners, and wit than the mother.

And gaily beamed a sparkling, blue-eyed grin at her.

"Well, not a'tall, little princess!"

Much to the disdain of the still stammering gentlewoman.

"Don't you . . . don't you . . . _dare_ speak to my daughter!"

And was still ignored.

"In fact," Paul continued, warming to his rapt audience. "They're downright useful and clever!"

And picking up his bowler, he twirled it 'round and 'round with his elongated digits.

Concluding by landing it perfectly atop the atonished lass' head.

To the delighted giggles of the child underneath.

She gazed up at him with joy in her blue eyes.

And he winked his own right back at her, temporarily forgetting all the pain and misery of his strange life.

"And always remember," he surreshed, a little quieter now. "Just because people are different, doesn't make 'em bad."

The girl's eyes were wide and round, receptive mind drinking in this new and powerful thought.

As her mother, vibrating on the spot and positively purple in the face, arrived at her daughter's side.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to my daughter, you _horrible_ man!"

Knocked the hat disdainfully to the floor.

And yanked her child out the door, red faced and still spluttering.

As the child herself gazed back at Paul with wondering eyes.

And he kept the sadness out of his own and the warmth in his heart until she was gone,

And Dell Toledo walked in the door.

* * *

**I love Paul. Not sure why. 'Cept he was Paul. **

**And I thought he would like this.**

**Yes, I know he's fictional. What's your point? ;)**

**So anyway, there's this.**

**Thanks to DinahRay, brigid1318, Bumblee93, and midnightrebellion86 for your time and words. You're sweeties, you are.**

**See you all again! (Soon?)**


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